What could prompt J.K. Rowling's first visit to America in six years?
What could push the most vile, gross, and vomitous descriptions out of Stephen King's mouth?
What could possibly possess John Irving to produce high pitched screechy words?

Answer: An Evening with Harry, Carrie, and Garp

It happened last night at Radio City Music Hall in New York City. There were over 6,000 eager readers in attendance to hear three of the world's most powerhouse, contemporary writers read their work. All proceeds went to Doctors Without Borders and The Haven Foundation.

The writers were introduced by Whoopi Goldberg, Tim Robbins, Stanley Tucci, and Kathy Bates. Even Salman Rushdie made an appearance and participated in the Q&A session with his kid at the end of the night! It was a surprising, starstruck event!

Stephen King was up first. He read the infamous story of the Pie Eating Contest that appears in his short novella The Body. You may remember this story from the movie Stand By Me. Without getting into too much disgusting detail, the story is basically about a very large boy who is sick and tired of everyone making fun of his weight. So he enters the town's annual pie eating contest and sabotages his own stomach with <ugh> castor oil. After ingesting five blueberry pies, his stomach starts to rumble. And then ... well, you can only imagine the and then. After the boy purges himself, a chain reaction occurs throughout the audience. I'm feeling sick just thinking about it. The whole town ... you know what? Read it for yourself. I can't relive it again right now. The Body is in a collection of short stories by Stephen King called Different Seasons.

[Click here to read an exclusive Weekly Reader interview with Stephen King]

Next up to the stage was John Irving. Now, admittedly, I was not familiar with much of Irving's work. I had been reading The World According To Garp in preparation for this event and am currently about halfway through it. Aside from looking the part of the quintessential writer, Irving was brilliant. I was not expecting him to be my favorite reader of the night, but as it turned out, he most certainly was.

Irving read a chapter from his highly acclaimed book, A Prayer For Owen Meany. Owen is a child of tiny proportions. He believes that God has a purpose for him, but he doesn't know what that purpose is. I've never actually read the book, but Irving's reading of the Chirstmas Pageant chapter was inspiring and magnificent and his description of how he created Owen was both emotional and humorous. And this is it -- When Irving was in grade school, there was this kid who was about half the size of all the other kids. "We loved him. He was a funny kid. And he talked like this." (At this point in the story, Irving's voice went up a few octaves and his neck scrunched down into his collarbone.) Well, many years passed by and Irving was sitting around with a bunch of his friends talking about the old times. The memory of this pint-sized character from their childhood came up in conversation. One of Irving's friends mentioned that he had gone off to Vietnam. At this point, Irving responded, "What? But he was so small! The army let him in?" His friends stared at him in shock and one of them stated the obvious, "He probably grew up, you moron!"

That night, Irving went home and thought about his asinine comment. He shared with us (the audience) that it was probably one of the dumbest things he had ever said. And yet, the memory of that very small child stayed with him through the night and Irving couldn't get him out of his head. "What if that child never DID grow up? What if he remained small?" And from these thoughts grew the character of Owen Meany. Word.

Whenever J.K. Rowling walks into a room, applause rains down from the rafters. Last evening was no exception. A close friend of mine has described the incredidible importance of J.K. better than I ever could. As fate would have it, his name is Owen. "J.K. has done more for reading than anyone I can think of. She somehow managed to get children of all ages excited about books again! It's amazing what she's done. It's really unprecedented. I really do admire her for that. And Harry Potter rules!"

Once the applause died down (and trust me, it took awhile), J.K. settled into the throne of a chair that was onstage. She showed off her fancy shoes that were adorned with jeweled serpents and said that she was going to read a short passage and then field a few questions from the audience. She read an excerpt from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. It was the chapter where Harry goes back in time and witnesses the scene when Professor Dumbledore first meets Tom Riddle and asks him to come to Hogwarts to study. It wasn't the most fascinating chapter she could have read. I was kind of hoping to hear one about Harry. But still, I enjoyed it, and the hoardes of younger readers in the audience enjoyed it. And that's all that really matters.

When asked which character she would most like to bring to life, J.K. answered, "Hagrid. I think we could all use a little Hagrid in our lives. He may complicate things, of course, but he has such a good heart!" I'm paraphrasing but that was the jist of it.

Oh and also (you're probably not going to want to hear this), Dumbledore is definitely dead. She made that very clear last night. Sorry guys. I don't want to believe it either but J.K. was quite adamant about this. She even went so far as to tell us that we had to move past Denial, the first stage of grief to the next one. "I think the second stage of grief is anger. So let's move past that one quickly too, shall we?"

Bry's Personal Reflection on the Entire Evening

OK, here it is. I loved it. I loved every moment of it. It was so refreshing to see soooo many people out to share their love for reading with one another! I mean, come on! This was Radio City Music Hall and it was packed! Not only that, but it was the second night that they had held the event! Several times, I couldn't help but scan over the thousands of heads and think, "Wow. It's really not just me."

Reading is such a personal thing. It's almost as personal as writing (but that's a whole other story). When you're reading a book, it almost never occurs to you how many other countless people have read the same words. And it shouldn't! When you're reading, you should be in your own world. It's just you and the characters and your imagination. But every once in awhile, when the idea hits you that yes, this is an incredible, shared experience with so many strangers throughout the world! It's heavy man. Words tie us all together in some immensely dorky way and we hardly ever think of it. Going to an event like this makes it all resonate.

We're out there, man. The readers. You can find us just about anywhere. Most of the time, we're quiet. We've got stories on our minds; our faces are buried in paperbacks; we nurse papercuts on our fingers and are on a neverending quest to locate the perfect bookmark. But if you're one of us, and you see us reading, say hello. Ask how the book is and what it's about. Chances are we won't screech at you in a high pitched voice. We won't shun you for being a muggle. And we'll never ever vomit on you. (Eww!) But we're always happy to discuss our literature, our fantasies. Everyone loves a good story.